


the way i see you (and how you don’t)

by wonderfulmumbo



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: 1930s, Awkward Crush, Awkward Romance, Canon Compliant, F/M, First Crush, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Orient Express, Teen Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, bc they're teenagers !!!, its vv soft bc i'm soft, rewritten POV, they have feelings but nobody knows how to deal with them !!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfulmumbo/pseuds/wonderfulmumbo
Summary: A budding journalist? I wonder if she knows shorthand, George made me learn it last term for our note taking. Took a jolly long time to memorise! A piece of her hair came untucked from under her grey beret, as she moved to fix it she turned and stared right at me, her dark eyes widened and her mouth formed an o shape.A rewritten perspective of Alexander's childish affection to Daisy to eventual pining of Hazel.
Relationships: Alexander Arcady & Daisy Wells, Alexander Arcady & George Mukherjee, Alexander Arcady & Hazel Wong, Alexander Arcady/Daisy Wells, Alexander Arcady/Hazel Wong, Daisy Wells & Hazel Wong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	the way i see you (and how you don’t)

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically a rewrite of certain scenes but from alexander's perspective bc i'm a sucker for hazder? alexandel? alehaz? idk but i love their dynamic + teen awkwardness !!
> 
> i will probs make this into a series type of thing but pls bear with me, it's the first ever fanfic i've written and like the only piece outside of english class !! 
> 
> grab a slice of cake and enjoy <3

—

We wove in and out all the busy passing businessmen in stiff grey suits and women waiting with children. My grandmother walking with such purpose that anyone who crossed her path was met with a sharp glare and a stamp to the foot, which left me tailing her path mumbling out quick _"désolés_ " to those she'd bruised.

Although I had shot up 4 inches last year, I was still constantly looking up; _up_ at the elevated glass panels that towered and curved around the central platforms that left a gap of the natural world to a modern one. _Up_ at the ginormous clock mounted ahead that dictated the way trains came and left, trains relied much on scheduling like people do. _Up_ at their loud, smoky departures that felt like a magician's trick. 

George knew them by name and model but all I saw was great big washes of colour and shapes.

I was straining my eyes across to a particular red one when Grandmother pinched my shoulder and pointed with her cane to the porters and then to our luggage. Then a wave of dark smoke engulfed us and I tilted my head up to a block of black, I looked further down the platform to see a line of carriages in blue and cream and fitted with gold trimming that extended past my field of view into a blur of colours. Gold steps were located in front of the doors, littered with a stream of men and women in bright fancy hats loudly talking about boring things but in a false cheery way adults do. Their porters behind them, carrying suitcases upon suitcases, who were attempting to get past the doors without squishing them with their own bags.

I breathed in, inhaling some of the smoke with it. I paused at the top of the stairs holding my hand over my mouth. 

Grandmother's stern voice cut through the haze of smog, "Come along! Come along, Alexander! Open the door, my good man!" 

I coughed again and followed her onboard the train, I could feel a bag being pressed against my back held by a porter. As the door slid shut with a final slam and the outside world collapsed back into silence, I breathed out to assess my surroundings. 

My view was slightly obscured by her standing directly in front of me commanding the _very_ specific way our cases _must_ be put away. To the left were a dozen of identical wooden doors, one just ahead was open but I couldn't make out it's occupant over Grandmother's head. Right at the back of the carriage was the engine, I hope I wasn't the one adjacent to it, I'm quite a light sleeper.

"My lady!" said a man with a slight lilt to his accent. "May I introduce myself—?" The man gestured toward the rooms with a swift arm. He wore a blue jacket that matched the carpet we stood on and the warm glow from the chandeliers above made him look like he blended right into the gold accented wallpaper.

"— There is no need to give me your name," I inwardly cringed and gave a weak smile to him to show that at least _one_ of us was polite. I hated how cold she was, it gave off the _worst_ first impressions that _I_ always needed to make up for. Grandmother stalked ahead clutching her neck with a pale claw. 

Mister Blue Jacket tried to keep up with her as she strutted away, "I assume you will be attending us?" she stated without bothering to look back to who she was addressing. Hesitantly I followed behind assuming she was walking towards our rooms. I turned back to him and paused. 

"Yes, my lady," he bowed slightly, to hide the red flush of his cheeks, reluctant to speak again. 

"Now, we have you in compartment eight," he said. Grandmother liked her privacy, her mouth pressed into a tight line. 

"...and your grandson next to you, in number nine. His is a double, but its other berth is free – we hope you will both be quite comfortable." Quite near the middle, not too bad. Depending on who's going to be my neighbours might be the issue but it does give me a good view of everything. And would make for a fine eavesdropping position for getting some insight of my new train mates.

I turned back around towards compartment eight, the air smelt sweet (perhaps the beginnings of tonight's dinner?). Grandmother already leading the way clutching her cane to her chest. I could finally see who had already begun the eavesdropping! 

I eyed a black haired girl, looking at Grandmother. I'm sure I was heaps more interesting than my own grandmother! She was short, _very_ short, grabbing hold of the brass door knob she was leaning against that was only 2 heads below her. Her green coat had little pearls that swept over the collar. I could see a faint outline of a notebook-sized rectangle in her pocket. A budding journalist? I wonder if she knows shorthand, George made me learn it last term for our note taking. Took a jolly long time to memorise! A piece of her hair came untucked from under her grey beret, as she moved to fix it she turned and stared right at me, her dark eyes widened and her mouth formed an o shape. She was Asian! One my age! I couldn't help but stare back, the lime of her coat made her cheeks prettily stand out when they flushed pink. 

She glanced away, then looked up at the girl next to her. Another girl! Tall, and had her arm stretched around the other girl's to look out into the corridor. Her face was set into a hard gaze, again to Grandmother! Why were they so concerned about her? Well I sometimes think she's quite a bore. She had on a long blue coat that contrasted her long blonde hair tied up into two braids that she kept on flicking behind her back. She looked very _English_ , the type of pretty girl I'd thought I'd meet when I came to England. She was awfully pretty though.  
  
I thought I might quite like her but then she peered round at me. Her gaze was cold and calculating, the kind George uses when I won't tell him a secret. I stared back, I mean, I was unsure of what should be the proper thing to be done when a lady looks at you.

Grandmother said "Humph!" crossly. It felt like she was complaining to a waiter about unseasoned steak all over again.

"That is not what I asked for. Two single compartments. This will be noted. However, I suppose you had better show them to me. Come along, Alexander." She continued.

"Yes, Grandmother." and I stepped across the lush blue carpet to join her. I looked back at the two very _different_ and mysterious girls as I passed. The blonde glared her eyes onto mine and the black haired girl simply ignored me, choosing instead to focus on her friend. 

I had a feeling this trip would be more exciting than I first figured l, when I was told I had to spend days in close quarters with Grandmother. I do love her. She can however be a little _much_. Dad says it's because she's from a different time but I think then, she has some catching up to do.

And I can't _wait_ to tell George all about it.

—

**Author's Note:**

> okay i've slightly butched his characteristic 1930's americanness slightly with my very scottish self so i apologise but i am going to continue to use words like colour and grey. 
> 
> au revoir :)


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